Ordinary
by goldenrose72
Summary: Molly Hooper is ordinary in every sense of the word. Sherlock/Molly


**Dear readers of this story. I have an interesting assignment for you. I am not a good writer, but I want to get better. I am asking of you to find anything you do not like or things 'I should write more of and review for me. If you would that would be awesome! Lots of Love, -Gold**

**P.S-This is my first sherlock fan fic I got the prompt by watching amazing videos on youtube. Also as much as I would love to own this wonderful show I sadly do not.**

* * *

Miss Molly Hooper was an ordinary person to say the least. She wasn't as attractive as Miss Irene Adler, not as daring as Mr. John Watson, and definatley not as smart as the one and only Sherlock Holmes. So in all definition she was Ordinary. She had a pretty ordinary job, and ordinary social standing. Though it is terribly hard to be ordinary in a group full of people who are extra ordinary.

There was Detective Inspector Lestrade. He wasn't ordinary either, for as much as Sherlock complained he was. He was the Detective Inspector and you don't get to that job being _ordinary._ He was wildly popular with the ladies, older and younger alike. He had a cute face and a goofy smile that just made woman go mad for him. He was smart. (Not Sherlock Smart but who was?) He was able to understand Sherlock much faster than she was. He wasn't ordinary. He was like everyone else around her. He was Extra-ordinary.

John Watson. He was a war doctor. He was a captain and obviously very had lived with Sherlock Holmes and not gone crazy. He had been strapped to a bomb, aimed at like a target, and managed to make friends with a high functioning Sociopath. To quote Sherlock, John was his one and only friend. He has probably been insulted more than any one, yet he still sticks around. He has seen his best friend killed and come back to life. His only reaction was to punch the man, then instantly forgive him. He has run straight into battle with his best friend. No John Watson was not Ordinary in the least.

Then there was Mister Sherlock Holmes. He was one of the greatest minds the world had ever seen. He had faced off with a criminal master mind, killed him, and then faked his own death. He had figured out several almost unimaginable cases when the cases had been classified as had killed off an entire criminal empire in a year. That was a feat most definitely classified as Extra-Ordinary. He had beaten almost everyone who challenged him to a game. He knew 240 different tobacco ashes. He was able to tell your life story by looking at your hand. He is able to tell you when you're going to die by looking at your coat pocket. He had saved millions of lives by faking his death. He was in all sense of the word Extra-Ordinary.

Miss Molly Hooper believed she was ordinary. But there was some one who believe she was extra-ordinary.

* * *

Molly Hooper sat in the mortuary looking at a recently dead body. A middle aged man going bald and had died from internal bleeding. Suspected foul-play. His stomach contents had just come back and they had revealed he was a vegan. No meat or dairy products. Molly slowly grabbed a needle and slowly punctured the skin. She drew it back and slowly filled the file with his blood. A loud crash echoed behind her making her jump nearly dropping the vile of blood. She pulled the needle out of the skin, and looked back around searching for the source of the noise.

A tall man with raven hair walked into the room his face grim. His amazing sea green eyes wandered around the lab and then landed on the small mousy girl sitting near an autopsy table.

"Hello Sherlock," the mousy girl said turning back. She grabbed the needle and placed it on a tray. Her hair was up in a ponytail, practical and useful. "Need more eyeballs?" she asked standing up from the stool and looked back at the consulting detective.

"Yes. Thank you, Molly. That would be quite useful," the raven haired man said looking at her. Deducing her like he always did. Sherlock raised his eyebrow noticing several other things off with the young Pathologist. Her clothes were wrinkled, not by sleeping in them. The ends of the sleeves were slightly damp from wiping away tears. Her tone was soft and tired, she had been crying. Why?

She was not on her period, nor did a close family member die. Sherlock watched as the small pathologist walked back into the room carrying a jar full of eyeballs.

"Molly...You've been crying." Sherlock stated not even bothering to put it into a question form. He had seen the wet sleeves, the bags under the eyes, and everything else. Molly Hooper as clear as day had been crying earlier that day.

"What? No I haven't been-"

"Don't lie to me, Molly. I've seen the tear stains on your sweater, the puffiness of your face that only gets like that after you cry. Need I go on? Now Molly you can tell me why you have been crying," Sherlock said rolling his eyes and grabbing the eyes and setting them on the nearby table.

"Well...This morning...I've just had a long day. Okay Sherlock? Now please just drop it?" Molly asked pulling a few of the victims hair out. She placed them in a glass bottle and Sherlock narrowed his sea green eyes at her.

He took a step forward and reached for her small wrist. He grabbed her other wrist and ignoring her protest pulled her close to him. "Now Molly Hooper tell me what is wrong. I have never once seen you cry, which means you have been bottling your feelings up and now they are spilling out. My question is what is the root of it?" the genius says looking down in to her clear brown eyes.

Molly pulled away and looked down at the body. "Do you know what its like? To be surrounded by people who are extra ordinary, and then you just be ordinary? I hate it. I hate being around John, Lestrade, and you. I know I'm ordinary but being around you guys makes me feel even more ordinary than normal. It kills me to just stand around and be _ordinary," _Molly said her brown eyes looking over the body. Her eyes weren't filling up with tears, she had cried enough.

"I hate being ordinary!" Molly said gritting her teeth. Sherlock watched her for a moment then did something no one would have expected him to do. He reached over and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Molly..." he slowly said in his deep baritone voice,"you are far from ordinary. You are able to tell how a victim died by looking them over in a glance. You are careful and watchful, and are sensitive. You were able to see past my mask and see that I was not okay. You don't realize how special you are. That is one of the many features that makes you more than ordinary, Molly. You are more than Extra-Ordinary, you're stunning. You are able to deduce people's emotions better than I can deduce their emotions. Molly you're not Extra-Ordinary. _You, Miss Molly Hooper, are Marvelous."_

Sherlock saw her turn her head to look up into his sea-green eyes. He slowly pulled her into a hug and she accepted it.

* * *

Molly Hooper always believed she was ordinary. In all sense of the word, she was.

But now she believed that she was even more than that. After all she was marvelous, to the one and only Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
